The Pack Survives
by k85
Summary: The Long Night has come and gone. The North has survived and is ruled by Queen in the North, Arya Stark. Arya/Jon.
1. Chapter 1

"You," Ned said, kissing her lightly on the brow, "will marry a king and rule his castle, and your sons will be knights and princes and lords and, yes, perhaps even a High Septon."

She remembered when her father had said that to her, all those years ago in Kings Landing. Now, she stood in front of his statue in the crypts of Winterfell with the Winter Crown upon her head.

She had gone from being Arya Stark to almost being no one and now she was Queen in the North.

"You were right father, I did become Queen...but not by marriage to any King. I've become Queen to your people, my people, the North.

I remember all your lessons, 'don't ask your men to die for a stranger', 'the man who passes the sentence must swing the sword' and that always, always 'winter is coming'."

Arya placed the winter roses she had collected in front of his statue and smiled .

" I understand now why you smiled so rarely . When one is a leader, there is little to smile about. Your family and children included the entirety of the North. Like you I wake with worry and go to sleep worried about my family. But we grow stronger Father, with each passing day, the North grows stronger. I will continue to make us strong until our enemies tremble to even look upon us. I promise you this...the North will remain and so will the Starks."

She turned and walked out of the crypts into the light of the day, heading towards the throne room where she knew Sansa awaited her, along with the problems of ruling. Bran, she knew would appear later towards the day as was his custom. For now, she knew he would find solace in the godswood.

Seated upon the throne with Nymeria at her side Arya looked at Sansa as she read a raven received that very morning from White Harbour. Lord Manderly informed them that his emissaries has set sail a week ago, to Essos.

" I still do not understand why you want to establish relations with the Free Cities, we have enough on our plate as it is." Sansa said as she folded the missive from White Harbour.

"I know we have plenty to do in the North Sansa, but a long time ago someone once told me that sometimes in order to win, one must change the rules of the game. I imagine the Sealord of Braavos will look favourably upon the hand of friendship the North extends to it", Arya replied.

Sansa smirked, "He'll know we want something from them."

"Ofcourse we want something from them, that is how kingdoms survive do they not Lady Hand?"

"Ofcourse, Your Grace."

"You like to annoy me don't you? Braavos is a great mercantile power in Essos and it's military strength is famed. They will not be a burden to us, besides Braavos is referred to as the Bastard child of the Freedold and..."

"And you've always been fond of Bastards." Sansa finished for her.

Arya grinned, "You're finally beginning to understand me sister. However, apart from my fondness for bastards, Braavos like the North guards it's independence fiercely. Let us hope that we can build a lasting alliance based upon these similarities."

"What of the South and Kings Landing? Don't you think that our cousin and his Queen might be interested in this new strategy of yours?"

"We need concern ourselves only with the opinion of our people. As for the South, I promised them our allegiance, not our sovereignty. The way the North rules itself is only our affair."

"Arya..." Sansa started but Arya cut her of asking about the Lords who wanted a word with their Queen.

"Lords Glover and Umber will be here shortly." Sansa replied resignedly.

"And where is Lord Davos this fine morning?" Arya inquired.

"Where you sent him Your Grace, to House Flint of the mountains to hear of raids they have suffered."

"Good. Is there any other immediate concern?" Arya inquired

" A raven from Kings Landing, bearing the Targaryen Sigil."

" I need to meet some of our people, the blacksmith included...the letter can wait." Arya replied walking towards the door.

"The Lords..."

"Will not be kept waiting, unlike me. I'll be back before then." Arya answered without looking back.


	2. Chapter 2

Supper was a lively affair this evening, Arya noted. With her seated at the seat where her father used to sit. To her right sat Bran and Sansa was seated besides him. To her left sat Lord Glover who she noted was, being regaled by Greatjon Umber's bawdy tale. Lord Glover grew more embarrased by the minute she noted amusedly.

"Then the lass grabbed my..." Greatjon continued.

"That is quite enough Lord Umber, you seem to forget you're in the presence of ladies", Lord Glover interrupted looking vexed.

Greatjon stared at Lord Glover and then peered forward to look at Sansa. "Lady Sansa isn't close enough to be bothered" he boomed.

"I was also referring to our Queen"

Lord Umber's laughter boomed across the hall and he raised his ale mug stating, "Ah! our Queen isn't bothered by my colorful storytelling."

Before Lord Glover could respond, Arya cut in and asked when the Lords would be returning to their respective keeps.

Lord Glover answered his departure would take place on the morrow, whereas as expected Greatjon Umber asked if their Queen was tired of his presence already.

Arya smiled and replied in the negative. The lords soon took to bantering amongst themselves leaving Arya free to observe the surroundings around her. The ale flowed freely as it always did whenever Greatjon was around. When her gaze finally turned to her brother, she found him gazing at her with a smile on his face.

"Still looking for lurking dangers sister?" Bran inquired

"Starks are renowned for their bad luck brother", the sentence while said with a smile held memories of a dark past.

"Things are not as they were Arya"

"Our words say otherwise...winter is forever present is it not? Besides, a little vigilance never hurt anyone"

"You are a good leader for our people, Father would be proud. Also, you should remember my dear sister that your brother happens to be the Three Eyed Raven...The Starks may be renowned for their bad luck but they also endure", Bran stated seriously.

"I don't think I have it in me to endure anymore Bran. You, Sansa and Rickon are all that matter to me, my pack. I have to protect us at all costs"

"You do protect us Arya, you are too hard on yourself. What happened was meant to be...nothing would have prepared us for our roles in the Long Night otherwise. As for Rickon, he is only too happy to be trained at Bear Island. Betrothing him to Lady Lyanna was an insightful move. Not only are they happy together, but Bear Island has been honored for their loyalty in a befitting manner."

"I didn't do for alliances. Rickon was so young when he lost mother and father. He deserves to be happy and it seems his happiness was with Lady Lyanna. Truth be told, I couldn't be happier to have her as a good-sister."

"Sansa said something about a raven from Kings Landing", Bran asked and saw his sister's face closing up like a flower.

"I haven't read it yet" came the reply.

"Arya, how long will you avoid Jon? You realize that as Queen you can not hide from him?"

" **I do not hide Bran**. Jon made his choice when he left and his Dragon-Queen was only too eager to sweep him away"

"He is a Targaryen, Arya. That was hardly his choice." Bran pressed on, trying to draw on Arya to reveal the reason behind her anger with Jon, whom she had once favored above all else.

"He is a Targaryen and a Stark. Our people followed him even after his true parentage was revealed, but it seemed not enough for him...he should have at least..." Arya stopped mid-sentence. "It no longer matters Bran...as you said what is past is past. He is the King of six kingdoms, a Targaryen and our cousin. I want him to be happy, truly I do. But make no mistake, our pack does not include our cousin any longer."

"What happened that time when you went to Kings Landing after Jon's coronation Arya", Bran asked.

"Can you not see brother? Are you not the Three Eyed Raven?", Arya asked mockingly.

"No, I can't", Bran said looking perturbed. "I have tried to, but I can only ever see you travelling to Kings Landing or sailing back from White Harbour. It's almost like something blocks me from seeing what occurred"

"Everything happens for a reason Bran", Arya replied as she stood up from her seat. "I'll see you tomorrow brother" she whispered smilingly and kissed his forehead before leaving the hall.

Instead of heading towards her chambers Arya walked to the Godswood and sat leaning against the Weirwood tree. She could not remember how many a times she had seen her father lean against this very tree cleaning Ice, the great broadsword of House Stark. Once the long night was over Lady Brienne had returned her sword 'Oathkeeper' to House Stark stating that was where the sword truly belonged. As to 'Widow's Wail', Jamie Lannister had fought bravely with the sword in the Battle for Dawn. However, he had not survived to see the Night's King defeated and so Tyrion Lannister as a gesture of good faith had given the sword back to the Starks.

While Ice had been reforged and while great pains had been taken to return it to it's former look, the sword still looked different. Every time Arya sentenced someone to death, Ice was used to carry out the judgement and every time Arya looked at Ice she was reminded of how fickle life was and how quickly fate could change it's course.

She realized now that her father must have felt something similar to what she felt nowadays...after all after Robert's Rebellion only Uncle Benjen and her father remained of their family. Ned Stark had returned to Winterfell as it's Lord to take the mantle of responsibility that was never meant for him, while Uncle Benjen had joined the Night's Watch.

He must have heartbroken, Arya realized. Just as she was because she still woke sometimes with tears on her face, always the morning near Baelor's Statue would haunt her. Her life had truly ended that day, a part of her did die as they killed her father. Starks truly did not belong in the South she thought to herself, Grandfather and Uncle Brandon had proved this and so had her father.

 **'** ** _So did you_** **'** a voice whispered inside her head. She stood abruptly from her seat, unwilling to dwell on what had occurred when she had traveled South for Jon's coronation.

"Fear cuts deeper than swords" she said aloud and started to walk back and as she walked on her heart whispered ' ** _so does betrayal_** '.


	3. Chapter 3

Arya woke once again with tears running down her face, only this time her nightmare wasn't about her father's murder. She hadn't dreamt about what happened the morning Ned Stark had been killed, rather she dreamt she was in one of the passages of the Red Keep. Led there on the pretense of being taken to see Rhaegal, Jon's Dragon.

But she had never made it to the pit where Rhaegal and Drogon were kept. Instead, somewhere in the bowels of that accursed Keep she had felt a dagger pierce her back. When she had looked down, she had seen the tip of the dagger protruding from her chest.

She knew in that moment that she would die and die she had. She had felt her heart cease and just before all life seeped from her body a voice said ' _ **A dragon doesn't forgive betrayal**_ '.

She left her bed and crossed to where the full-length mirror was kept. After loosening the laces of her shift she pushed the material back to reveal the scar she still bore. A testament to the treachery she had suffered at the hands of a Targaryen. She knew who her attacker was, yet she wasn't sure about who had ordered the attack.

' ** _A dragon doesn't forgive betrayal_** '...the words were seared onto her brain. Yet only three dragons had survived through Robert's Rebellion and of those three, two still lived on. Jon, her Jon would never be capable of something like this she knew. Arya traced the scar and felt the skin around the wound, such a wound should have killed her, she thought. Yet here she stood, alive and well.

What betrayal was she accused of she wondered. Perhaps a more important question was who had saved her. Who had taken her unseen from the tunnels of the Red Keep to some precarious inn along the meandering streets of Kings Landing. She had awoken there, all alone with her chest aching like the Others had danced upon it.

After gaining consciousness, she had barely been able to move for first three hours. After much toil she had somehow managed to drag her self to a mirror to see herself dressed in her leather pants and her chest covered in white strips.

When she removed the bandage and the cotton beneath tentatively, she saw only what she could see in the mirror even now. A deep scar towards her left breast at least 4 inches long.

She had only managed to drag herself to Lord Davos's chamber in the Tower of the Hand well past midnight. She told him all that had occurred and Lord Davos wanted to go to Jon then and there. Arya had managed to convince him to wait till the following morning and asked him whether she could stay in his room for the night, while he guarded the room.

Lord Davos being Lord Davos had accepted all that she had said, not wanting to see the scar nor did he ask any other questions. He simply believed.

He had managed to get some broth in her before finally allowing her to sleep, claiming she would need her strength. Yet what had occurred the following morning had given her more pain, she thought, than any dagger to the chest could have.

Before she could think about anything else a knock sounded at her door. Arya quickly pulled the material back into place and gave Nan permission to enter.

"Your Grace, your breakfast has been readied. Shall I ask the servants to prepare your bath before you eat", Nan asked.

Arya smiled, "The bath first, please Nan"

"Of course, Your Grace", Nan replied as she went to follow her Queen's request.

No one in the North knew of what she had suffered during her trip to Kings Landing after Jon's coronation except herself and Lord Davos.

She still wondered though about her saviour. Who was it that had brought her back, a red priest or priestess ? But they knew better than to come near her, after all she had made her hate of Melisandre more than clear. Yet whoever it was had been strangely familiar.

She had not seen who it was but whoever it had been, he or she was no stranger to her. She could recall very little of the dream she supposed she had while she lay suspended between life and the Great Beyond.

She had felt her father's loving presence and had felt safe. After a lifetime of war it felt like she had come home. But Ned Stark had kissed her forehead and said only," _ **You will be a Queen**_ ". Next thing she knew she had awaken only to wish she never had.

After having dressed for the day with her crown upon her head as armor, she went towards the message she had received from King's Landing. The seal broke easily enough and she unrolled the parchment. She could have recognized that writing anywhere, the raven was from Jon.

 _Little Wolf,_

 _it seems forever since I last saw your face. It seems even longer since I've heard from you. I know I hurt you that day. At least give me a chance to explain myself to you._

 _We've always been close Arya. You know I could never dream of harming you. Please come to Kings Landing. Talk to me, allow me a chance, just one._

 _Please Arya._

 _Jon Snow_

She rolled the raven back again and tossed it in the fire. Sitting down at her desk she took a piece of parchment, dipped her pen in ink and wrote:

 _Your Grace,_

 _I believe it was you who clearly stated that the Starks never fared very well when they ventured beyond the North to go South. I now know this to be true. Naturally, you will understand my sentiments when I decline._

 _Arya Stark_

 _Queen in the North_

Arya rolled the parchment and sealed it. She handed it to the Maester and asked him to send it to Kings Landing to His Grace Jon Targaryen.

As she walked to meet Sansa, she wondered how much longer would Jon continue to send these ravens. Not for much longer she thought, if Daenarys Targaryen had her way.


	4. Chapter 4

It was an unusually slow day Arya noted as she stroked Nymeria's fur. None of the common-folk had any petitions, there were no lords to placate and Sansa had ridden out to meet a few families that had newly arrived at Winter town. Bran had no doubt taken to the Godswood and she had half a mind to go there herself.

Instead she went to her chambers and changed into her training garb and walked out to the bridge that connected the Great Keep to the Armory with Nymeria following her footsteps faithfully. Her direwolf no longer surprised the people of Winterfell, considering her size. However, none ventured too close even now.

Once in the Armory she chose a Braavosi-style training sword and walked out to where the Master at arms was training the new recruits along with the soldiers who had fought and lived through the long night.

Many of the young soldiers were reluctant to spar with their Queen, even for training. The other soldiers knew better. Arya and fought and defeated at least four seasoned warriors before the Maester Wolkan found her and informed her that Lord Davos had returned from his journey.

Lord Davos walked towards the Great Hall after having bathed and eaten. The Maester had informed him that Her Grace would meet with him in the Great Hall after he had made himself comfortable.

He smiled to himself as he walked. He was happy to report that the matter of the raids had been taken care of by House Flint of the mountains, with a little help from him. While there he had discovered the Northern Queen had been named after her great grandmother, Arya Flint who had married Rodrick Stark.

House Flint took great pride in the fact that the first Queen in the North was not only related to them by blood but also that she bore the name of one of their noble daughters. He learned Arya Flint had been an excellent rider and hunter, traits she had certainly passed to her great granddaughter.

"It was about time you returned Lord Davos", Arya said as soon as he entered the Great Hall.

"Your Grace" Lord Davos replied as he inclined his towards her, smiling as he did.

"What news of House Flint?"

"The raiders were vagrants Your Grace. Displaced and destitute, raiding only to survive"

"What has become of them?", Arya asked with worry in her voice. The Long Night's after-effects were still felt all around the North and its surrounding territories.

"House Flint took them in at put them to honest work, Your Grace. They understand only too well the ravages of war."

"I'm glad and I am thankful for the part you played in helping those people."

Lord Davos looked at her surprised. The Queen had a way of gleaning information without having said a word.

"I should be used to it by now, the Gods know", he chuckled. "Dare I ask how you knew whether I had any part in what transpired, my Queen?"

"I sent you there to take care of House Flint, Lord Davos. I knew you would not let me down. House Flint is important to me...it is my.."

" Great Grandmother's House?" Lord Davos completed.

"So you know now? I've often wondered why my father named me after my great grandmother? I'm told she was a strong woman", Arya said

"She was more than that Your Grace. I've been told she was an exceptional rider and hunter. She would have made a great warrior it seems"

"For all that the North creates strong women, it seems strange that we proclaimed none as Queen before me."

"Change is gradual", Lord Davis stated simply.

"And painful", Arya responded.

"Yes, Your Grace. But pain teaches us lessons and teaches them well. Before our journey South you were not ready to be proclaimed Queen. Yet you came back to Winterfell a changed person."

Arya turned away from the window and looked at Lord Davos.

Her grey eyes seemed to hold wisdom and age beyond her years, and pain someone as young as her shouldn't have been acquainted with.

"I never wanted to be Queen. I never even wanted to be a Lady. My life's dream was to roam free, to be a hero, to build castles and conquer the world. A child's dream. Yet my father encouraged my wildness, even though he knew better than most, that duty was the death of dreams.  
More than any of the fabled heroes of the tales Old Nan talked of, he was my hero. Lord Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.  
I wanted to be like him, honorable and loved."

"I never knew your father except by reputation my Queen. Though from what I've heard you are a lot like your father. You are loved and respected by your people. Like your father, you have maintained the honor of your House.", Lord Davos stated.

"I would give anything just to hear his voice once, you know, he was the reason I chose to take on the mantle of responsibility for the North, because I knew that I couldn't leave the North that he so loved, that I couldn't turn my back on the North or my family, because the pack had to survive.  
The North had to survive. We had lost too much to give up."

Lord Davos said,"Stannis Baratheon thought Ned Stark's honour had gotten him killed. I think that Ned Stark must have been an extraordinary man to inspire such devotion and love long after he has gone."

Arya smiled and stated, "He was."


	5. Chapter 5

If the last few days were slow, then this day had certainly made up for the lack of boredom. Arya was sitting upon the Winter Throne looking rather exasperated as

the Lords Locke and Karstark seemed mere seconds away from coming to blows.

Nymeria could feel her agitation and seemed ready to pounce, ready to tear limbs for a moment of blessed silence. Lord Davos and Sansa tried to interrupt and calm

things down every now and then, in vain.

Arya felt her hackles rising and it occurred to her that some days she almost wished to be on some battlefield somewhere, where petty matters didn't lead to grown

men acting like a sorry set of children. She rose slowly from her seat and felt Nymeria beside her coil herself, ready for attack.

She took a deep breath and bellowed, "THAT IS QUITE ENOUGH MY LORDS!". She found herself being glad for all the shouting she had done in Braavos selling clams,

strange how things worked out she thought amused.

However, anyone looking at her face could never have revealed their Queen was not really angry since her face seemed all the more menacing because it seemed

wiped clear of any expression. Her grey eyes though, resembled hard and punishing ice.

The Lords of Oldcastle, Karhold and all the men in their respective parties seemed to have suddenly lost the ability to speak as they stared at their Queen as if they

were seeing her for the very first time.

Once she was satisfied the Lords had suitably been brought to heel, she continued in a commanding voice, "Did we painstakingly pick ourselves up after the ravages

of the Long Night only to perish fighting each other? I sit here thinking about ways to make the North the most commanding presence in Westeros, while my loyal

bannermen squabble amongst themselves over matters that are easily solved."

Lord Karstark made the mistake of thinking Arya's tirade was over when he interrupted, "But Your Grace, that land has belonged to House Karstark for centuries..."

Lord Davos watched Arya's eyes grow colder as she turned her head to face the unfortunate nobleman. He took a moment to admire the young ruler in front of him,

 _the blood of the First Men, indeed_ he thought to himself admirably.

" ** _That land was given to House Karstark to award their loyalty by the Kings of Winter...my forebears, Lord Karstark._** ** _As Queen in the North, as the_**

 ** _chosen ruler of the North it is in my power to take them back._** ** _Do not speak to me of what belongs to whom in the North...the North runs in my_**

 ** _very_** ** _veins.". Arya declared._**

Not once had Arya raised her voice during what she said, but the softly spoken words had the effect of a sledge-hammer.

Standing before them was one whose lineage was as long as the age of the North, the Lords thought. This young, slender, beautiful girl could bring to

bear the fury of winter itself upon her enemies, she had played a pivotal role in ending the Night King they recalled. It was why she was chosen to lead the North.

"Your pardon, Your Grace", Lord Karstark said inclining his head suitably chastised.

Arya sat back down and Sansa saw why the Northmen seemed to hold her sister in such high regard because she had taken an impossible situation and turned it

upon its head, Sansa thought proudly.

"I understand your concern Lord Karstark, about the land. But now is the time for the North to work together. Karhold and Oldcastle derive their main income

from trade. Yet that doesn't necessarily mean that either of you have to lose any business, perhaps if House Locke could agree to return the courtesy House Karstark

would extend by allowing them use of their land...the matter at hand could be settled peacefully.", Arya concluded as she looked to Lord Locke.

"It would be our honor, Your Grace", Lord Locke stated respectfully.

Arya smiled and stood up. She walked down the steps to stand amongst her bannermen and said, "It is settled then. Stay and enjoy our hospitality, if there is

anything you want...you need only ask. I shall meet you in the Great Hall at night for a feast thrown in your honor. You have made me very happy today. May the

Gods smile upon the hand of friendship your two houses have extended to each other this day."

The Lords and their men thanked her and left the Hall to discuss the details among themselves.

"We live to fight another day, Your Grace", Lord Davos uttered laughingly as soon as the Hall emptied.

"You did well sister", Sansa said drawing closer.

"I believe it was you who told me that sometimes a ruler needs to throw their weight around a bit", Arya replied throwing her arm around her sister's shoulder.

"A bit? That was a bit? I half expected you to start prattling of titles like Daenarys. I am Arya, Queen in the North, Wearer of Faces, Killer of the Night King, Leader of

Wolves and Men, Wintersbane...and so on", Sansa shot back smiling.

Even Lord Davos could not hold back a snort at Sansa's teasing.

Arya looked at her sister fondly, thankful to have her by her side, "I'd be careful if I were you Lady Hand. You're supposed to be the 'master-manipulator' and skilled

politician. Yet you barely said a word."

"Yes well, to manipulate one needs to be able to speak", Sansa declared, at which Arya laughed. Sansa continued to say the perhaps the reason the North was still

safe from Southern politics was because the Southern Lords probably never could get a word in the argument.

"The North is unlike the South, dear sister. Now please tell me there are no other land disputes awaiting me."

"No land disputes, Your Grace...However, there's the matter of Wintertown's farmers and their bulls."

"Brilliant" Arya said with sarcasm as she walked back to her Throne. "More bulls. Very well then, let's see what their complaints are" She motioned for Lord Davos to

bring in the next complainant.

She found herself walking to the crypts after the feast. The guards posted at the entrance did not seem surprised to see her there as they acknowledged her

presence. She walked along the dimly lit corridors until she reached her destination.

"Father", she sighed. "How did you do it all those years? The petty squabbles, the childish Lords and then you came home to deal with us, the Gods bless you"

"He fulfilled his duty towards his people because he loved them. Same with us, I suppose", Sansa spoke from the corriodor as she slowly walked towards her sister

and their father's statue.

"Do you remember how weary he seemed sometimes? Especially when he came home late at night and found us at each other's throats?", Arya asked.

Sansa smiled and answered, "Septa Mordane once said that he told her 'war was easier than daughters'."

Arya laughed. "Gods, I was a brat then"

"If you were a brat, I shudder to think of what I was"

"We were all so young then. So untouched by the harsh realities of this world. I suppose we were all spoiled."

"No, not all of us were spoilt. But I was. You know, you were always his favorite."

"And you were Mother's favorite."

"We were loved by them both Arya."

"Yes. I miss them. Mother, Father and Robb."

"Me too."

It was then that Arya realised they were both crying and holding hands. She looked to her father's statue once more and this time she smiled.


	6. Chapter 6

"I bent the knee to Daenerys Targaryen", Jon stated facing his siblings, all of whom wore different expressions.

Sansa looked incensed whereas Bran looked as if he had expected this all along. Arya on the other hand, her face

showed no expression however Bran had felt her body stiffen suddenly at Jon's words.

"You bent the knee, to a Targaryen of all people..only days after the North proclaimed you King! Why Jon?", Sansa

demanded.

"You know why. You know we need her dragons. We can not win this fight alone. I did not make this decision lightly."

"But you made the decision alone", Bran said finally.

"I expected Sansa to be angry, but you Bran...you've seen what I have, you've seen..."

"I've seen more than you can imagine Jon", Bran cut in.

Jon looked at Bran, the words he said seemed normal enough but Bran's tone revealed a slight displeasure.

Instead of saying anything more, Jon walked towards Arya and put his hands on her shoulder. "You understand why I had to do this

Arya, tell me you understand."

Instead of answering his question, Arya walked to the door, opened it and said "I'd like to speak with Jon...alone, please."

Sansa looked as if she might protest but Bran spoke first saying, "Sansa can you please take me to my chambers."

"Ofcourse brother.", Sansa replied. The look she gave Jon before exiting the room with Bran was part anger and part

disgust.

Arya shut the door and walked quietly to the table in the room. Calmly she pulled a chair and sat, pulling a piece of paper from her pocket as she

did. Once settled she motioned to Jon to take a chair opposite her.

When he was seated, she held out her hand for him to take the paper.

"What is it?" Jon asked before he looked at the parchment.

"Read", Arya said simply.

"This is Robb's writing."

"The terms he sent to Joffrey when he was proclaimed King in the North."

"What is this supposed to mean Arya?"

"Read the last lines of the terms"

"But..."

"Just read Jon"

"From this day until its last day the North will remain a free and independent kingdom", Jon read out aloud.

"A free and independent kingdom Jon, that is what he wanted...that is what we all want"

"There won't be a kingdom left if we don't band together. Robb didn't know the threat of the White Walkers"

Jon saw Arya's expression change, from calm to disbelief.

"You're really going to sit there and expect me to believe you"

"I'm not lying"

"You say you didn't have a choice. I know otherwise Jon. I know Daenerys was ready to help the North after she flew beyond the wall to rescue

you."

"How do you...?"

"That is hardly the point. Why would you bend the knee...why give away our freedom when it was no longer required?"

"She was prepared to stop her..."

"Her conquest of Westeros to help us fight a threat to us all? How magnanimous of her"

"I thought you would understand.."

"I would understand if you didn't have a choice, really I would Jon. But unlike Torrhen Stark you did have a choice."

After a long silence prevailed in the room, Arya felt herself ask "Do you love her?"

"I'm not sure, it's not that easy. But I felt a connection with her. I really do believe she will make a good ruler", Jon answered.

Arya sighed, walked towards the window and said, "Our people chose you to lead them in the coming darkness, but they also proclaimed you king

with the hope that should life somehow defeat the darkness, you would also lead them in victory. When you bent the knee, you gave away that

hope, that trust, you gave away something that wasn't yours to give away."

"What are you saying Arya?" Jon asked wearily.

"I love you Jon, I always have. I would never betray you. Which is why I want you to know, we will fight the coming threat together but if somehow

we prevail, if by some miracle we win the North will never again kneel to ruler not of it's choosing and neither will I."

"And if the North chooses Daenerys?"

"Then as my father's daughter, as a Stark, I will honor the decision of my people. But if the North chooses not to kneel, then I will honor that

commitment also."

"I never wanted to be King...and I did not want to offend...", Jon started to explain himself.

"When word of this comes out, and it will come out, I will not allow any to harm you or the Dragon Queen. Nor would Bran and Sansa. Instead, we

will ask the Northern Lords to put this matter aside until we actually win against the Night King. Though I suggest you tell Daenerys Targaryen

exactly what our sentiments on the matter are. Tell her now so she does not believe that we betrayed her".

With that said Arya walked towards the door when Jon said, "She is a just ruler. I have seen her. She is no Cersei."

Arya turned around and stated, "I never thought her to be a monster. However, rulers chosen by their people have an advantage over those who

seek to conquer. There is a reason why even now people say 'we know no king, but the king in the north whose name is Stark'. The loyalty of people

is not easily won, Jon. Perhaps, in this situation she may well be within her right to demand subservience, but then, we are well within our rights to

deny it."

* * *

The Northern Lords had eventually found out about the fact that Jon had bent the knee and as predicted, the lords had not been too happy. It had

taken time to convince them to let the matter be, even with the threat of the Long Night looming ahead of them. Arya recalled Lord Manderly

walking upto her and saying the words "The North remembers, my Lady...are we now expected to forget?"

She had been speechless for few minutes. Lord Manderly was the one who sent Lord Davos to Skagos to rescue Rickon. He and many others like

him had lost and sacrificed much for House Stark and Northern independence. Lord Manderly and other Northern Lords had put themselves at risk to

win back Winterfell from the Boltons. Without their help, such a feat would not have been possible even with the Wildlings Jon had following him.

"We do not forget Lord Manderly. Right now winter is coming for us all...if we live to fight another day, the struggle for the North will continue.",

Arya had promised and she had been true to her word.

The next day Bran had informed them that the Wall had fallen and that the army of the dead was headed straight for them. Matters of allegiance

had ceased to take precedence then and the world as they knew it had changed Arya recalled.

* * *

Notes: The story is a mish-mash of canon and the Television adaptation. I have never been mush of a planner so the story is going to develop pretty much as I write it. Excuse any mistakes and please feel free to point them out. Details will be revealed as the story progresses and things will heat up gradually.

Thank you to everyone who has taken out the time to read and review. Your kind words are much appreciated and like many of you have said, I too decided to write this story because of the disaster that season 7 was. To me Jonrya is the only OTP that matters :D


	7. Chapter 7

_She was back on the field. Bodies were strewn all around, the living that had died and the dead that had been killed again, once and for all._

 _In the distance, she could see her fellow Northerners fighting with all their might along with the Dothraki, the Unsullied, the army from the_

 _Vale...everyone and anyone who cared to defend the world they lived in, were now fighting side by side. Fighting against the darkness and the army_

 _of the dead._

 _During the heat of battle, she'd lost track of Nymeria, yet she knew Nymeria still lived...she could feel her. She'd lost sight of Jon as well and at this_

 _realisation panic erupted inside her. She tried to locate him, but during the long night...it seemed as if the dark had swallowed up the sun._

 _'Fear cuts deeper than swords', she thought to herself and charged forward drawing her blade as she went. Dark Sister, the sword was called, Bran_

 _had told her. Visenya Targaryen had once wielded this sword. The thought gave her strength somehow, it seemed all her heroes now charged_

 _towards the enemy with her. She saw a Dothraki warrior be unseated from his horse directly ahead of her. Such was her haste and worry that she_

 _ran and seated herself on the horse without waiting to see if the Dothraki rider was fine. Once seated she urged the horse forward, riding into the_

 _thick of battle._

 _The Valyrian Steel sword cut through the wights as light cuts through dark and wights fell before her fury. In her hurry, she did not notice the_

 _wight giant that stood a little ahead of her, immovable like a mountain, fighting the army of men. In the giant's hand was a club, proportionate to_

 _its size. The club seemed to be carved of ice, with barbarous looking spikes. To and fro the giant swung the club, and everywhere the club went it_

 _seemed to jounce men in the air. It cut through their armor as if it were mere skin, spraying the snow red. Arya realized her mistake in getting too_

 _close when she missed the swinging club by inches. Her steed however wasn't as lucky as the club caught it's side and the power behind the swing_

 _lifted it off the ground._

 _Her back met the cold, hard ground and her breath rushed out of her body. She lay there on the ground dazed. The fall had winded her but she_

 _knew she did not have the luxury to tarry. One of her legs was stuck beneath her dead horse she realized as she sat up slowly. Her hand closed on her sword_

 _first, which lay nearby. As she struggled to free herself, she spotted a wight rushing toward her. She prepared to fight the damnable thing while_

 _sitting on the ground, when she saw a flash of silver and war-hammer took the wight's head off._

 _"My lady" her saviour called out to her " the battlefield is no place for rolling on the ground carelessly"_

 _"Shut up stupid!" Arya shouted back. "Come here and and help me up Gendry"_

 _"As m'lady commands", Gendry stated walking towards her._

 _Gendry lifted the carcass of the horse slightly allowing Arya to slip her foot free. She stood up immediately to make sure she could put weight on_

 _the leg._

 _"Is your leg alright ?", Gendry asked_

 _"It's fine" Arya answered back curtly as the battle waged all around them. The leg was not broken but it throbbed fiercely and pain tightened her_

 _voice._

 _"Have you seen Jon?"_

 _"Last I saw His Grace was riding his horse towards the Dragon-queen and her dragons"_

 _Arya looked up to the sky and saw only darkness._

 _"Where are they?" she asked out loud._

 _Just then a loud screech rent the air and it seemed the temperature dropped even further, the cold seemed to seep into her very bones. A white_

 _shadow seemed to move in the clouds above them now, followed by flashes of bright, blue light. She saw the men far off in the distance start to_

 _run towards them screaming something all at once._

 _"What happening?" she asked urgently looking at Gendry._

 _"Run Arya!" was all that Gendry said as he dragged her back the other way._

 _Arya tried to break free of his hold shouting "Let me go! I have to find Jon."_

 _"They're screaming at us to fall back Arya. We have to move." Gendry said tightening his grip._

 _"I don't care!", Arya screamed still struggling to break free._

 _But when Gendry's grip slackened she looked up at him to find him looking at something in the sky in the near distance._

 _Out of the clouds, there appeared a dragon and unlike Daenery's dragons, this one was white. As the dragon drew closer, she could make out a_

 _rider sitting atop the dragon. The rider had bright, blue eyes like the dragon itself and what appeared to be a crown of ice upon his head._

 _"The Night King", Arya whispered and it seemed from atop the dragon the Night King stared...straight at her._

* * *

Her eyes opened and she realized she had been dreaming about the past again. She was soaked with sweat and her heart was still racing. She threw back the covers

and climbed out of bed. Taking deep breaths to calm herself, she walked to the window to throw it open. The fields in front of her were covered with a fine sheet of

snow and here and there you could see newly, grown grass peeking through the snow. The early morning sun seemed to make the snow shine like crystals.

Arya closed her eyes and exhaled. Never did she realize that just the sight of the rolling hills in front of Winterfell, could make fall to her knees in

gratefulness. And grateful she was, that the North had somehow managed to come out intact from the horrors of the long night.

She moved to the chair suddenly and picked up her cloak, donning it as she went towards the door of her chambers and quietly slipped out.

As she neared the the Heart tree in the Godswood she slowed her footsteps. Coming to a stop in front of the tree, she knelt and clasped her together as she had done

once long ago in the Godswood near Harrenhall.

 _'Help me you old gods, gods of my Father. Help me, lead my people well. Help me, in creating a greater, stronger North out of the ashes of the old one._

 _Help me to always put duty to my people before any want of mine. To understand and remember that my pledge to my people is sacrosanct._

 _Help me in protecting my pack, my family, from all dangers...seen or unseen. Help us, to be stronger together. Watch over Jon. Keep him safe in the_

 _South. Lastly, I pray that my family and my people live long and prosper.'_

When she opened her eyes after praying, she heard the leaves of the Heart tree rustling. A light wind blowing from the North seemed to caress her face and a voice

seemed to whisper _'You have the wolf blood in you Arya'_ and somewhere out in the wilderness, a wolf howled.


	8. Chapter 8

Days passed one after the other and all appeared to seem well in the realm. Arya felt guilty for feeling so, but the calm and quiet

surrounding her somehow set her on edge. She told Sansa as much while they were strolling through the glass gardens.

"You worry too much Arya", was the reply she had received. Yet Arya could not rid herself of the feeling that they

were about to receive some manner of ill account.

* * *

Her dreams continued to plague her. On most nights she dreamt of the past and the horrors it had contained till recently.

Now she dreamt of a blood moon and a red sky cast above Winterfell. She had the same dream three nights in a row. The next morning she

made her way towards the Godswood to get Bran's judgement on the dream. If she was honest with herself, she had half a mind to turn around and pay

no mind to the dream. She could see Bran's reaction in her mind, somewhere between mockery and amusement, 'I'm not entirely a fortune teller

sister' he would say. But she felt strangely compelled to tell Bran about her recent dreams.

She found him exactly where she knew she would, with his chair next to the Heart tree. She noticed his eyes were closed and so she approached him

silently. However, as quiet as she was, the minute she sat down next to the rock placed near the tree, his eyes opened.

"Ah, sister", he said smiling "Somehow I've been expecting you. You're here to ask me a question."

"Are asking or informing me brother?", Arya stated grinning

Bran raised his eyebrow and stated boastfully, "Both" which he then spoiled by smiling.

"What are you worried about now?"

"My dreams...they have been strange of late. I keep dreaming about a red moon and a red sky cast above Winterfell. There's not much else in the

dream truth be told. The sight of Winterfell flooded with a soft red glow looked rather beautiful. Still I wake up feeling anxious as if the dream

is some sort of sign, a grim portent of things to come", Arya explained.

"It has been said that red is the color of the old gods...perhaps what you perceive to be a grim portent isn't one. Mayhaps, it is a glad tiding,

a herald of victory"

"..a herald of victory would first require a struggle brother, or worse a battle"

"Possibly" Bran said after a moment's silence. "On the other hand was it not you, who prayed to the old gods for a greater and stronger North?"

Arya stared at him as if to ask how did you know and then realized who her brother was. Instead she said, "You do realize you've only grown

more annoying with age?"

She smiled as stood, clasped Bran's head with both her hands and kissed him on the forehead "Thank you brother."

"You know I live only to serve you, Your Grace", Bran said playfully, sounding like his old self again.

"Go on, Sansa is about to run amok looking for you "

Arya was still laughing as she walked away from him.

* * *

Walking in to the throne room Arya saw Sansa, Lord Davos and Nymeria were all present there. Out of the three only Nymeria seemed to look calm.

Sansa and Lord Davos wore weighty expressions.

"Surely I am not all that late" she joked trying to lighten the mood. It did not work.

She sighed and turned around to shut the doors to the room. Once done with that, she walked promptly to where both her

advisors stood and asked "What has happened?"

Lord Davos spoke first. "Unsettling news from the Dreadfort, Your Grace.

"The Dreadfort is under the control of the Hornwoods now, and Larence Hornwood is a loyal man. Of that I am sure"

"There are reports from areas surrounding Hornwood that claim Lord Larence has been killed or barring that he has been taken captive." Sansa stated

holding out a letter.

As Arya read she continued, " This missive arrived from House Manderly this morning. In it Lord Manderly writes that his men reported a host

bearing the banners of House Dustin set sail for an undisclosed location."

"He thinks this host has set sail for dreadfort ?"

Lord Davos nodded and added "They set off five nights ago."

"This makes little sense. You are telling me Lady Dustin marched her men all they way to White Harbor, under our noses, and then commanded them

to sail to dreadfort. Why would she do that?" Arya asked.

"Lady Dustin's sister was married to Roose Bolton. Before the tide turned during the Battle for Winterfell, House Dustin had declared

for House Bolton", Sansa reasoned.

"As did a lot of other Houses, House Manderly included. However we know now that these Houses were loyal to House Stark all along."

"Some of them were. Barbary Dustin hates our father, this much has become common knowledge. She bears an intense grudge against him for not

bringing Lord Dustin's bones back with him to the North from Dorne. She has gone as far to say that had it been in her power she would not have let

father's bones return to Winterfell at all"

"I have no love lost for that woman Sansa, but were she to try and take over the Dreadfort she would place

herself in an impossible situation. With her surrounded on both fronts, by the Umbers, Karstarks and Manderlys on one front and by the

Glovers, Starks and Reeds on the other."

"That is a fair point my Queen. However, Lord Manderly has also reported that those ships have landed at the Dreadfort's port."

"How is it the Lord Manderly did not write to us about this sooner?" Arya asked

"He begs your pardon and writes that the report of Lord Larence was received by them only yestermorn. Before then they had no reason to suspect

Lady Dustin's true intentions." Lord Davos explained.

"Seven Hells! Write to Lord Manderly and tell him in no uncertain terms that any movement that takes place in the North needs

to be reported to us. After this matter is over I'll need to have a word with him about his spies. As to Lady Dustin...she seems to have lost the

little sense she retained in her dotage.", Arya said.

"What are we to do next sister?", Sansa asked.

"What do you both suggest?"

"I shall write to all our bannermen, explaining the situation. We should also ask them to gather as much information about this matter

and Lord Larence's disappearance and to report to it back to us posthaste." Sansa said.

"Is there any news about that state of affairs in Hornwood? What of Lord Larence's family and his men?", Arya asked.

"There has been no news as yet" Lord Davos replied.

"Very well. Lord Davos, I need to to speak to our men and ask them to be prepared for all eventualities. I want the guard around Winterfell

doubled. Assign suitable men to watch our borders night and day. Allow nothing to move lest we know about it first.", Arya commanded.

"I should go speak to Maester about our correspondence", Sansa said as moved to leave the room.

"Something doesn't feel right about this Lord Davos. Lady Dustin is a sharp, old crow who knows the game only too well. Her hatred of my father

maybe deep. Yet why would she risk the well-being of her entire House on a fight she knows she can not win?"

"Hatred and anger makes a person do strange things, Your Grace" came his reply.

"Any news from The Rills? Lord Ryswell is Lady Dustin's brother I presume."

"No news yet...I think for the moment we should be prepare ourselves and gather as much information as we can."

"Agreed."

* * *

Once Arya was alone in the room, she walked up the steps leading to the throne, with Nymeria following her foortsteps. As she sat there lost in her

thoughts she felt Nymeria nudge her legs as if to reassure her.

'I prayed for a stronger North and instead I receive news of a possible mutiny among my bannermen.', Arya thought rubbing her temples.

She recalled Bran's words from earlier, 'Red is the color of the old gods'. Red was the color of the old gods she thought...and the color of blood,

what remained to be seen was whether the red of her dreams would come from the blood of her enemies or from theirs?


	9. Not really a chapter

Pasted below is a review of one, flayjunior15. It has been posted verbatim.

"idiotic story, poorly written and poorly written, with multiple grammatical errors, too many OoC characters and lots of shit to write and narrate the paragraphs. I hope this does not mean that here Daenerys is a villain who stabs Arya, because such an idea is ridiculous by itself. this is just another story of pro-north shit and pro-stark pendeja. tell me something, what does the independence of the North matter when the fucking apocalypse is here? Thousands of undead come to kill them and worry about stupidity. worse, how do you think the North can be self-sustaining without the help of the South? after the war, the North would be devastated enough that it would need help from the south to repair itself, since it would take years and the winter hits hard. Cpn what resources? With what labor, materials? Do you think that the north can survive and recover? in the past, the north needed the help of the south even in its worst winters, and it was a symbiotic relationship that worked quite well among the Stark-Targaryen, until the mad king Aerys broke that. if the north is so stupid, then it deserves to be destroyed and uninhabited, and Jon deserves very well to accept his name Targaryen and flee from that sterile land and with narrow-minded people"

Usually I take critical reviews in my stride (a practice learned very early on in art schools), but when someone

calls me an Asshole (even in a language as lovely as Spanish) I tend to take it personally. So this reviewer of mine

calls me (and I quote) a 'pro-north shit and pro-Stark pendeja'. Umm...what can I say? I never said I wasn't pro-north

or pro-Stark...what the fuck do you expect in a story where Arya Stark becomes Queen in the North, huh flayjunior15?

If you want a pro-Targaryen story I suggest you go search for one, preferably with Jon/Dany tags (you know

tags which your favorite story section is filled to the brim with).

Also, if you had bothered to take the time to read my 'idiotic', 'poorly-written', grammatically

incorrect (guilty on that one for sho') tale...you might have discovered that ...umm the North and the South aren't fighting each other.

The North has pledged allegiance to the South but it remains Sovereign (I would google that if I were you). Arya and Jon are

the rulers of their Kingdoms (Daenerys alongside Jon of course) and they happen to be related by blood, this would bind the North

and South more closely than they ever have been before...in case you missed it Jon is Targaryen and Stark.

As to whether I make Darnerys the villain of this story...got two word for ya' pal 1. artistic 2. licence...as in creative licence

as in I can literally do whatever the fuck I want because I'm writing this piece of FAN FICTION (Though obviously everything belongs

GRRM).

So if my Jonrya story hurts your delicate sensibilities DO NOT READ IT...I have not compelled you to. Had you been polite

with your review...even if you said you hated my story and had you not made it personal...I wouldn't have minded.

Soooo... keep your lousy, bullying ass away from my story from now-onwards and in the depths of the internet where

trolls like you belong.

Oh and thank you for reviewing.


	10. Chapter 9

Winterfell had been constructed to withstand attacks and sieges from enemies. It had been

built to stand the test of time. It was not merely a castle, it was a network of structures

protected by two imposing walls. Walls which were now manned by archers, and

guards who stood watch night and day.

Inside the castle complex was the great keep, where the Queen and her family resided.

The folk who lived inside the castle knew their Queen had received troubling news,

the sudden increase in protection around the castle was proof of that. They noted

with unease as ravens and messengers came and went at all times of the day and

night. But what increased their concern was the fact that they had not seen their

Queen leave the keep for days now.

* * *

"You should have stopped her from leaving", Sansa said to both Bran and Lord Davos."The people

have begun to notice her absence even if they do not speak of it yet"

"Arya can take care of herself Sansa. I would not worry if I were you. Besides, she has been gone for

more than a week. She should be home anyday now.", Bran replied.

"There are very few who can change the Queen's mind once it is made up, My Lady. Unfortunately

I can not count myself amongst such people.", Lord Davos stated, looking apologetic.

"She should never have ventured out, she is Queen now, she has responsibilities to her people

and she's all alone out there...in the bloody Barrowlands. If she gets captured...Gods! I can not

even think about all that can go wrong with this stunt of hers."

"Sansa, two things to remember. First, you need to breathe sister and second, Arya has abilities

most of do not know about and can not fathom. She will return soon." Bran said.

"She had better, I'm running out of excuses to explain her sudden inclination to stay indoors."

* * *

The hour was late, when the guard atop the wall of the castle saw a rider approaching. He raised

the alarm and saw the torches lining the wall next to the gate being lit. The rider was not

alone the guard noticed from his position on the wall, although whoever the other traveller

was, was not faring too well , he thought to himself, noticing how the man was

slumped forward. The drawbridge was lowered slowly and the rider entered the

castle complex going past the second wall that surrounded the inner castle.

The rider dismounted and threw back the hood of their cloak. When the men

surrounding the horse saw the rider's face all hell broke loose. "Your Grace" stammered

one of them, "We did not know you had ventured out of..."

"We can discuss that later. For now, get Maester Wolkan for me...hurry!"

Arya turned to the other soldiers standing nearby, and asked them to help her in moving their

guest to the Great Keep.

Suddenly, the castle was wide awake. Servants were scurrying here and there on instructions

of the maester. Their 'guest' had been injured, how...they could not say. As to the man's

identity, with the man unconscious only the queen knew who he was.

Arya had given Maester Wolkan instructions to find her after he had attended to

the injured man. She had gone straight to her chambers, and had asked her advisors to

meet her there immediately. Nymeria had discovered her presence in the keep and had

come bounding towards her. Arya was just as happy to see Nymeria, she had missed her

, but she could hardly have taken her direwolf on the mission she had set out on.

A knock sounded in the room and Arya gave whoever it was on the otherside permission to

enter the room. Maester Wolkan entered her chambers and reported that the visitor had been

tended for.

"The wounds were not deep Your Grace, he will be well again quite soon with proper care"

"Thank you Maester. Take good care of him and try and get him better as soon as possible."

As Arya was talking to the maester, Lord Davos, Sansa and along with her Bran entered the

chambers.

Once the maester had left and shut the door behind him, Sansa asked surprised, "You found him,

then?"

"I told you to trust me. Lord Larence is well-tended for, and I've given Maester Wolkan

instructions to aid him back to health as quickly as possible.", Arya stated smiling.

"A glad-tiding", Bran said. "The old gods have favored you sister"

"This business is not over yet Bran. By now, the Lady of Barrowton knows her captive has

gone missing. Though what is more important is that we can proceed with our plans directly,

now that she no longer has Lord Larence to use as leverage."

"Lord Reed and Lord Manderly have both complied with the directions you left them.

All is ready, and the Lords await your authorization.", Lord Davos informed them.

"Give them permission to proceed and tell their Lordships in definitive terms that I want

Lady Dustin brought to me alive and well. Ask them to only use as much force as is

necessary and to harm none who are not involved in this scheme. I will not tolerate

raping or pillaging and those who are found guilty of such will not be spared."

* * *

It had been more than two weeks since the night Arya had returned to Winterfell with Lord Larence.

Her bannermen had all advised her to launch an attack on the Barrowlands, but once it had

become clear that Lord Larence had been kept captive by House Dustin...Arya found she could

not proceed. All those times she had thought about her Lord Father and his choices leading up to

the day of his death, she had judged him to be in the wrong. 'He should have thought about

us, his family, before the likes of Cersei and her ilk', she had thought. Yet when the choice

had fallen to her, to choose between being ruthless to her enemy though it might have

led to sacrificing the life of an innocent and between choosing to save an innocent, even

though it may have resulted in folly...she had surprised herself. By choosing, as her father

once had. Only, by some stroke of fortune, she had come to possess skills that enabled her

to wrest control of the situation.

It had been a long time since she had worn a face that was not hers. Getting into Barrow Hall had been

easier than expected. Getting news of Lord Larence had proven less so she reflected and was wrenched

out of her thoughts by Lord Davos.

"Your Grace, riders bearing the banners of House Manderly and House Reed are headed

this way."

The party of riders had at least forty armed men, she noted as they entered through

the gates and a small wheelhouse pulled by four horses. The wheelhouse was flanked by

the riders from all sides.

Arya stood among a small group of Stark men that assembled to receive the party, with Sansa

at her side.

A rider dismounted and walked up to her, she recognised him as Lord Manderly's Captain

of the Guards.

"We come bearing glad-tidings Your Grace. The attack on Barrow Hall was successful.

We have brought Lady Dustin with us, as per your instructions. Lord Manderly and Lord

Reed sent us ahead with the prisoner. They should be here before long."

"Has the Lady been treated well?"

"Yes, Your Grace, as well as can be treated. She has traveled not alone, but with her lady-servant"

"You have my gratitude. Please, make yourselves comfortable. I'm sure the journey here

was tiring."

Arya turned to Sansa, "Have Lady Dustin escorted to the chambers prepared for her."

"Chambers ?...she is a traitor, Arya! For all the trouble she has caused she deserves to be thrown

in the cells."

"She has yet to stand trial and I will not throw a woman of her age into the cells. You may

personally perpare her meals if you wish, that might be punishment enough.", Arya japed.

Sansa stared at her sister disgustedly and walked away.

* * *

Arya entered Lady Dustin's assigned chambers after having asked permission to enter.

"I was wondering when you would seek me out, Your Grace"

Arya observed Lady Dustin for a moment. She clearly had been handsome in her youth,

some of that beauty still remained...though somewhat dimmed by the passage of time. She

had an austereness about her features though and in her eyes there lingered a hint of cruelty.

"Why did you do it? You must have known that you would never have been able to win?"

"There are all sorts of victories and defeats, My Queen. With time you will learn."

"Is that so? Well then perhaps you could educate me. What victory were you trying to pursue?

Surely your hatred of my father could not have warranted the action you took?"

"Your father?...no, no, Your Grace. I did not hate your father, I loathed him. Just as I loathe your

house, everything that you stand for. You think yourselves to be noble, just and fair. Yet, your

family has more than it's share of innocent blood on your hands...", Barbery Dustin stated venomously.

"Whose blood?"

"Do you not know darling child what your Uncle Brandon did to me. He took my maidenhead, ruined

my honor and left me to go get betrothed to Catelyn Tully. Apparently, the honor of young girl was

not as noble as the Southern ambitions of Lord Rickard. When fate finally smiled upon me, with

my marriage to Lord Dustin...your father took him with his party to his death and returned only with

my lord husband's horse. His horse!"

"And what honor was there in what you did?", Arya asked. "You needlessly shed blood, killed

men, took the Lord of House Hornwood captive and you would have killed him, had the situation

called for it. You have no right to stand before me and accuse me and mine of being unjust, when

you have no concept of the word. Not only were you unjust, you were foolish. You would never

have prevailed."

"Oh but I would have Your Grace. You see I'm the last remaining member of House Dustin. After

me the lands will go to whichever imbecile who licks your heels the best. I have nothing to lose.

But you, My Queen, you have everything to lose. I know you, just like I knew your father

before you. The honorable Eddard Stark. He was a fool. I knew you would never have attacked

Barrow Hill as long as I possessed that fool of a Hornwood..

You would have disregarded the advice of all your bannermen and you would have turned

the Dreadfort over to me...all to save the life of one measly Lord. Because that is how the honorable

lord raised you. To do the right thing. All I needed to win, was to show the North

and all of Westeros how weak it's Queen really was. A little blood in the water and the monsters

would have savaged you."

Arya walked up to where the old woman was seated. She put her hands on the sides of the chair

as she leaned down to look her in the eyes.

"People often tend to forget, the words 'winter is coming', are more than just a reminder of hard

times. They also represent the wrath we can bring to bear upon our enemies. House Stark has

ruled the North for more than eight thousand years...not just because we _are_ honorable...but also

because our justice is swift and harsh . Had my father raised us differently,

your head would now be lying separate from your body and your lands and all that was in it

would have been pillaged and destroyed.

Look into my eyes, Lady Dustin. I-am-the-monster. All your planning and scheming came to naught

because you have no idea of what or who I am. They killed the child my father raised when they

took his head...the woman who stands before you now...was raised from the blood of the

enemies of House Stark. I am winter made flesh...and soon winter will come for you". Arya said and

walked to the door.

"Sleep well Lady Dustin, your time will come and with it your judgement."


	11. Chapter 10

The morning brought with it a bright sun, despite the slight bite of chill in

the air. The night before, the trial of Lady Dustin had been concluded.

She had been found guilty of treason, against her fellow Northerners and

her Queen. Many of the Lords of the Northern Houses had been present

for the trial, and now had assembled in a clear field for the Queen's

justice to be carried out.

Arya was mounted on her horse, as she watched the Lady being led to the

stump that had been placed on a make-shift dais. Once the guilty had been

led there, her head was placed on the stump. Arya dismounted and

proceeded towards the dais. Beside her Lord Davos walked with 'Ice' in

his hands. Before climbing the dais, Arya removed her gloves and gave

them to Lord Davos, who in turn handed her House Stark's Valyrian

steel sword.

She walked closer to the stump and said "Lady Barbery Dustin, you have

been found guilty of treason and deemed a traitor by your Queen.

Do you have any last words?"

The Lady was allowed to raise her head to speak her piece.

"You are no Queen of mine!", she said and lay her head back

on the stump.

Arya took a deep breath to calm herself and moved forward. "In the name

of Eddard of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North and

True King in the North, and by the word of Arya of the House Stark,

Queen in the North, I do sentence you to die."

She raised the sword with both her hands and brought it down in

single, firm stroke.

As the blood flowed, spilling from the dais on to the snow dusted ground

she thought to herself, ' _red is the color of the old gods_.'

* * *

By the time all the Lords had departed from Winterfell to journey to their

respective keeps, around a fortnight had passed. After the execution,

the matter of the Barrowlands and it's succession had to be resolved.

For the time being, it had been decided that Lord Ryswell,

Lady Dustin's brother would take over the responsibility

as Lord of Barrow Hill.

* * *

Life had returned to it's routine. With winter fading, the fields were

being made ready for harvest for the first time in years. They had received a

welcome response from the Sea Lord of Braavos and a trade pact with the city

had nearly been completed. The North had wool, hides and timber

aplenty to barter with the Free City for food and other supplies.

Later everyone had assembled in the Great Hall to sup for the night

when the doors were banged open and a guard came rushing in.

"Your Grace" he panted, "riders bearing the Targaryen banners

are headed this way."

Arya felt her head buzzing and her heart pick up speed.

"How many riders?"

"Atleast twenty men."

"It's Jon", Bran spoke up from his seat.

Arya looked at him with surprise.

"You knew?", she asked feeling a little betrayed.

Bran shook his head and stated, "I had feeling".

"Perhaps the feeling should have been communicated Bran. We

are not prepared to receive a King", Sansa said incredulously.

"This is not a state-related visit I think", Bran predicted

looking at Arya.

"This is beyond ridiculous. What is he thinking?", Arya said

"Perhaps he just felt like visiting his family?"

"Perhaps pigs fly", Arya spat angrily walking out the door.

Rather than waiting, Arya asked for her horse to be brought to her.

She mounted the steed and ordered for the draw-bridge to be lowered.

"Perhaps I should accompany you, Your Grace", Lord Davos appeared

next to her. He seemed out of breath, like he had run to find her.

Arya smiled and stated,"You're welcome to Lord Davos. If you

can keep up", and with that she nudged her horse and raced towards

the drawbridge.

Lord Davos sighed and decided to stay. Their Queen rode like a demon,

and he had no intention of dealing with a sore backside.

The full moon provided more than enough light for Arya to ride

freely. She only slowed her horse when she neared the party.

Just ahead of the riders was Jon. Jon, whom she had not seen in years.

He looked...handsome she thought achingly. Perhaps one of the handsomest

men of her acquaintance. She considered her father to be the handsomest,

regardless of what the others said about his looks. Her father had

possessed an innate nobility, Jon it seemed had been blessed with

the same gift.

She pulled the reins and came to stop, wanting him to move

towards her. She wasn't a child anymore, to go running into his arms.

She was a woman-grown, more than that, she was a Queen.

When he neared her Jon stopped his steed, dismounted and walked

towards her and before she could say anything he pulled her off her

horse and hugged her. His arms closed around her with surprising force

and his face was burrowed in her neck.

Despite herself Arya could feel her eyes growing wet and she felt her

herself hugging him back just as firmly.

"I've missed you Arya" he said and when he pulled his head

back to look in her eyes, she saw the truth reflected in them.

He set her back on her feet and moved back to look at her.

"You're beautiful, Your Grace. You look just as I imagined

you would, a winter queen."

Now that his arms were no longer around her, she felt the

memories rushing back...along with the cold.

"Why are you here Jon?", she felt herself ask.

She saw her words hurt him, but she could not bring

herself to feel sad about it.

Before Jon could answer, the rest of his riding party came

galloping by. They all stopped where she and Jon stood out

of respect.

Arya looked at them to see if there was a familiar face.

Her gaze landed on Sandor Clegane.

"Sir Sandor, you are a long way from home" she said smiling.

The Hound he had been known as, once upon a time.

"Aye, that I am, Your Grace. But where the King goes...I follow"

An awkward silence had descended after that, she realised and felt

her anxiety grow. She wished she could run and hide like

she used to as a child. She did not want be near Jon.

" _Liar",_ her heart whispered.

"Let us be on our way. Winterfell awaits you, Your Grace"

Arya said as she moved to mount her horse.

Jon looked disappointed, but he nodded his head and

made himself ready to ride once again.

Arya felt herself breathe a little easier as they were riding

towards Winterfell's gray granite walls.

Her thought as they entered the courtyard was, ' _What will_

 _I do now_?"


	12. Chapter 11

The moment he had seen the rider coming towards them at break-neck

speed, he'd known it was Arya. Even as a child of nine she had been one

of the best riders in the North.

He watched as she masterfully slowed the horse and came to a stop

a little ahead of him. He realised then, that Arya would not come

running to him, or jump in his arms like she used to when they were young.

The thought made his heart ache.

As they had entered Northern territory, He felt like he had come home again

after years. He had been wrong, because home had always been and

would probably always continue to be the girl who now waited for

him near the gates of Winterfell. He felt himself ride faster, he wasn't

entirely aware of when he brought his steed to a halt or when he had

walked over to her. He remembered only pulling Arya off her horse and

into his arms.

When he had pulled back to look at her, he had been stunned. He'd heard

her hailed many a times as 'Lyanna come again' and she did resemble

the statue of his mother in the crypts. Yet to him, it seemed Arya had a

beauty that was entirely her own.

Gray eyes that were so like his stared back at him, but they were so

much more beautiful than his could ever be. Her hair had grown, not

only longer but darker...and in the moonlight she seemed to glow like

the moon itself. Had she always looked this enchanting he asked himself.

He felt himself step back to look at her properly and his eyes drank

in the sight before him.

The Winter Crown sat upon her head, made of bronze and iron. On a lesser

queen, it would have taken away from her allure, but not so with Arya.

It seemed the crown was made for her and it enhanced her looks. His little

Wolf had become a Queen, as bewitching as winter itself.

When she asked him why he'd bothered to come, even though the words had

pricked he knew then her anger had not diminished. He knew he deserved

it. But now he grew weary of staying away from her.

As a child Arya had had a tempestous nature, but he could always calm her and

she would always listen to him. They weren't like the others, they were outcasts

together, they had been everything...together. Still even then Jon remembered,

Arya forgave her other siblings quicker if they did something to anger her, but

with him...she would make him beg before she forgave him. Maybe she had

retained that quality from her youth Jon thought to himself smiling, as they rode

towards Winterfell.

Once they had reached Winterfell he had greeted and embraced his cousins.

Yet somewhere in the middle of all that, he noticed Arya had slipped away.

He _needed_ to speak with her. He _needed_ to apologize...he had made a grave

error that day when she had come to him in Kings Landing. He hadn't believed her,

against his better judgement. He'd made the mistake of listening to Daenerys.

Arya had gone straight from the meeting with him to pack her belongings. She had

left with Lord Davos not minutes after. She hadn't said goodbye, she

hadn't told him she was leaving...she had left and never looked back.

He'd rushed out when Tyrion told him he'd seen Arya leaving, but she

was gone. He knew then, that she hadn't concocted some tale to draw his

attention. He had wanted to go after her, but his duties kept him shackled. He'd

never hated being King more than he had then.

A week later, a missive from the North had informed them that the Northerners

had chosen their new monarch...he had been speechless when the letter

informed them Arya Stark would soon be crowned Queen in the North.

He had been shocked, not because he doubted her abilities, but he knew Arya,

and she had abhorred being a lady...for her to have accepted the responsibilties

of ruling made him distressed. His heart ached for the little girl who wanted to go on

adventures, to build castles...to be free. The hadn't been invited to the coronation.

He had not been surprised. His letter, invitations, all attempts to meet, had been met with

stony negations, cleverly disguised under the cover of duty.

This visit was his last valiant effort to make amends, or at the very least a

chance at apology.A restlessness had grown in him since she had left. As if

she had left a hole where his heart used to be and nothing he did could ever fill it.

Daenerys, the kingdoms, his duty...nothing could. The more he tried to reach her,

the further away she ran. Now that he was so close to her, he couldn't wait

any longer he thought as he walked out of his chambers.

The corridors were dimly lit but otherwise deserted. Everyone had retired

for the night it appeared. Part of him was glad, he wanted no disturbances,

no one who come between them. He arrived at the chambers that had

previously belonged to the Lord of Winterfell and knocked.

"Who is it ?"

"It's me Arya. Open the door...please", Jon replied.

There was a long silence and he thought she would refuse but then he

heard the bolt sliding.

The door opened to reveal Arya, dressed to retire for the night...her hair

open and a little mussed and he found himself losing his train of thought.

"Well, is there anything you need?", she asked.

"I...I wanted to speak with you, privately." he stammered. He suddenly felt like

he was a green boy of one and five again.

"Can this matter not wait til the morn?"

"No, it can't", Jon stated firmly, and as a precautionary measure slid his

left forward stealthily to stop her from shutting the door.

Arya raised an eyebrow, and moved back to allow him to enter the chambers.

After he entered the room she shut the door and turned to face him.

"What is it that you want Jon?", she asked.

"What I wrote in all those letters I sent to you, a chance, Arya. I want

a chance to explain what happened that day."

"What happened that day is as clear as water Jon. You know it

and so do I. I came to you, seeking your help, your support and you

didn't believe a word I said", Arya said with a flat voice. Her eyes

looked blank. She didn't even look upset.

A sort of panic erupted in his chest. "I know that I was wrong not to

believe you. I knew it the moment you left. I was wrong to not have

trusted you. I wish I could go back and undo what I did..."

"But you can't, can you? None of us can.", Arya interrupted.

"Please...Arya. Look at me.", Jon said as he walked to her and put his hands

on her shoulder. "Curse at me, scream at me, rain a cloud of anger and insults

upon my head, but speak to me. I will not ask for you to forgive me. Not yet, but

at least...at the very least give a chance to win back your trust."

He saw her eyes soften a little and breathed easier. He pulled her into his arms

and said "I am so very sorry Little Wolf. Do not forgive me if you don't want.

But do not ever take yourself away from me like that ever again."

When he felt Arya's arms lift hesitantly and wrap around him, his heart sped up.

Though she had not said the words, she had relented a little. It was enough

he thought. For now, it was everything.


	13. Chapter 12

As he walked along the bridge, he caught sight of her. She was training

with the soldiers. He smiled as he saw his cousin fighting a man atleast

twice her size. He saw as the man swung his sword and put all his weight

behind the move, but she seemingly danced out of the way at the last

moment.

They were fighting with live steel he realised feeling uneasy. Even the most

seasoned warriors were capable of making mistakes he thought to himself

and one misplaced swing could result in great injury. His steps moved

faster, and he took the stairs two at a time to get to her.

He had lost sight of her for just a minute and when he saw her

again, the soldier was on his knees and Arya had her arm around her

chest. He saw red seeping from between her fingers.

As he ran towards her, he heard her asking the man to get off his knees.

"I beg your pardon Your Grace, I was at fault, I should have paid more..."

"You were not at fault, if I recall correctly it was my suggestion to fight with

live steel...and I was right. I have grown complacent fighting with blunt

swords", Arya said.

"Arya!", he shouted as he finally reached her. "You're bleeding, we need

to get you to the maester right away", Jon stated urgently.

"It's just a cut, Jon. Nothing life threatening. I was just telling Willem that

what happened wasn't his fault..." Arya said

"Ofourse it was his fault", Jon interrupted her. "He should have been more

careful." As he walked closer to the man he said "I shall deal with you

later."

"You will do no such thing. These are my men and...", but before Arya

could complete her sentence Jon had swung her up in his arms and was

striding away from the training yard.

Arya felt anger coursing through her veins and she said in a quiet voice,

"The only reason I'm not struggling out of your arms is because I do not want

to cause a scene in front of _my men._ You are no longer King in the North, Your

Grace and I will not be questioned in front of my people!"

"I may not be King in the North, but I still am older than you Your Grace. You

need to get to the maester, and that's is exactly where I am going to take you.

Throwing your title at me will not deter me from this", Jon replied anger

reflecting in his own voice.

They remained silent until he reached Maester Wolkan's chambers.

Once inside he lay her on one of the several beds the large chamber

had within it.

"Your Grace", maester Wolkan stated as her prepared to look at Arya,

"I need for you to leave to afford the Queen some privacy." The

sentence had been directed at Jon and he did not look too happy

about it.

"I will remain outside until you are finished." Jon replied flatly and

moved to leave the room.

It had been well past half an hour and Jon was outside the room wondering

what in the seven hells could be taking the maester this long.

Unless the wound Arya had sustained was grave. She was bleeding, but the

blood-flow had not been profuse, he thought to calm himself.

He would gave the maester a few more minutes and then he would go look

for himself, privacy be damned.

When the door remained closed after several moments had passed, Jon

decided to look in on Arya without further ado. He opened the door, but

a screen barred Arya from his sight. He walked around

the screen and saw the maester was nowhere to be found.

His eyes fell on Arya who lay on prone on the bed with her eyes closed.

Her undershirt had been cut open in two for the maester to reach the

wound. Her skin appeared milky-white and smooth except for the

wound which lay near her left breast.

She was covered well-enough, only her chest and stomach were revealed,

but the sight mesmerised him for some reason. He felt himself

compelled to go closer... _to touch_ and as he walked nearer to the bed, he

slowed as his eyes fell on a wicked looking scar.

The scar looked old, yet it seemed strangely fimiliar. He had a scar not

unlike the one on her body, in the center of his chest. That wound

had killed him he thought. ' _Who had done this to her_ ' he thought fearfully

as he traced his hand along the scar, ' _And how had she survived it_?'

The moment his hand touched her skin, Arya's eyes snapped open and her

body arched as if to dislodge his hand. She sat up immediately, clutching the

ends of her undershirt and wrapping them close.

"Jon!" she said shocked, "The maester told you to stay outside, what are

you doing here?", she stammered.

"How did you get the scar Arya?", Jon asked quietly, too quietly for Arya's

liking.

"It happened years ago, before I came back to Winterfell from Braavos", she

said quickly.

"No, it didn't", He replied immediately. "The scar is old, but not that old."

"Where did you get it? Who attacked you ?".

"I told you..."

Jon grabbed her arms and drew her to him, "You've become a good liar Arya.

But you still can not lie to me. Tell-me-who-did-this?", Jon said menacingly.

Arya kept staring at him, into his eyes, that were suddenly filled with a storm

of rage. She felt herself feel slightly afraid from the first time in years. Not

for herself, but for the consequences that would follow once she revealed the

truth.

She was saved for the time-being with the arrival of Maester Wolkan.

He looked at Jon with surprise. But before she or Jon could say anything

he went on to say the wound was not very deep. It would require no bandaging

and that his salve would take care of the healing in a matter of days.

Before the maester could ask Jon to leave again, Jon whispered "This is not

over..." in her ear and stormed out of the room.

Somehow Arya had managed to avoid Jon for the remainder of the day.

She had feigned feeling faint to retire to her chambers without having

to attend the banquet laid out in the Great Hal in honor of the King's

arrival. Sansa had not been happy, but had relented in the end.

As she walked to her chambers, she thought about what possible explanation

she could present to Jon as to the wound.

Perhaps what had happened in Kings Landing that day was not entirely

wrong she thought. Had she told Jon she had not just been attacked, but

instead had shown him the wound to prove herself, he would not have

reacted well. 'Thats an understatment', she thought.

Had she told him that the _attempt_ on her life had been carried out at

his _wife's_ behest...the consequences that would have resulted would

have been disastrous...not just for them, but for the realm. With a Queen's

hindsight, she thought that perhaps what had happened had

happened for the best.

She noticed a fire was lit in her chamber but it was otherwise dark as she

entered. Her training kicked in and told her there was someone else in the

chambers with her. But by that time, she had already bolted the door.

Her hand went to the dagger she wore at her waist and slowly she drew

it out.

As she walked away from the door to the middle of the room, she felt a

presence behind her. Her dagger was at the intruder's throat ever before she

looked at his face.

When she did look, she saw Jon staring down at her looking none the happier

than he had that afternoon.

"Did you truly think you could escape me that easy?", he asked.

"I wasn't escaping...my head..."

"Who gave you that scar Arya? I have a scar like that...from the time

when I was attacked in the Night's Watch...I didn't survive that damage", Jon said

Arya pulled the dagger back from his throat and said as she walked away,

"I told you, this scar is old...I received it a long time ago"

"It is old...and it seems old enough to have been received about the

time you came to see me Kings Landing." Jon stated.

"Why do keep harping on about Kings Landing...I told you..."

But she was interrupted once again by Jon when he said, "It

was Daenerys...wasn't it?"


	14. Chapter 13

"It was Daenerys, wasn't it?", Jon asked. 

Arya felt her body stiffen. She felt herself unable to move, unable to

say anything. At the HoBW, she had learnt to play the game of faces,

and had learnt it well. But this was Jon and they had always been close.

She had never been able to lie to him.

"Jon..." she started to say 

"You're wondering why she would be the one I suspect. I have my reasons.

Who else could be _mad_ enough to try such a thing? Anyone who truly knows

me...knows what I would do to any who tried to bring you to harm."

Jon was standing in front of the fire, staring at the flames when Arya

turned around to face him.

"Fire and Blood. The Targaryen words. Words that speak of madness and death.

I wonder sometimes, if the madness that they are famed for, runs in my veins? Was the

Mad King ever sane...did people ever look at him and think he would make a just

ruler?", Jon said softly. Almost as if he was speaking to himself.

"Jon?", Arya said tentatively.

"There was a time when the thought having Targaryen blood coursing

through my veins caused my undescribable anguish. When Bran revealed

the truth about my parentage to us, I felt my world tilt.

The Old Gods were laughing at me it seemed. I was no longer a bastard,

but then I was no longer the son of Eddard Stark.

I felt betrayed, it appeared to me that all that I was, was a lie. My life,

my dreams, all I had ever wanted was a cruel jape and when the long night

was over, there was no escaping from the truth. I could not continue

being King in the North...nor could I continue pretending to be a Stark." 

"You were and will always be a Stark...if not through my father then

through Lyanna", Arya stated determinedly. 

"Lyanna, the she-wolf. A mother who by all accounts did probably love me, but of

whom I had no memory. A shadow to replace the love of a man, I admired

with all my being.

When I decided to go South, to marry Daenerys...I did so because I felt

I would never belong, because it seemed like the right thing to do. The

North could only ever be ruled by a true-born child of Eddard Stark.

Truth be told, I was not thinking entirely clear in those days.

Everything I saw, I saw through the sheen of anger and grief. Anger at

Lord Eddard Stark, anger at the Gods and anger at myself.

I thought going South would rid me of my turmoil. _Kill the boy and let the_

 _man be born_ I had been told once. Men did not cry over what was past

and could never be changed, men did their duty."

"Duty? Jon, I thought...we all thought you to be in love with Daenerys",

Arya said.

"I remember you asking me if I was in love with her once. I told you then

that I was not sure. I felt a connection to her, no doubt, the call of blood.

She too was alone in the world, like I found myself...like I thought myself

to be. I was ever the idiot and I let my anger rule me. 

So, I went South. Married Daenerys and like a fool expected everything

to be miraculously set right again. Only, I let myself be blinded to one

thing- fate does not deal kindly with cravens. 

I realized when my anger dissipated that I had left all that I held

dear in the North. Instead of belonging, I was even more of a stranger

in the South and that, like all the old tales had warned, my anger

had cost me dear. 

I continued to live, in varying degrees of despair. Cursing myself at the

damage I had wrought. But regret, I have found, is a poison that kills

very slowly.

I was shackled to the South and when I drove you away with my idiocy

you took the little hope that I had left with you."

Jon turned from the fire to look at Arya and her face must have revealed

her confusion.

"She's beautiful, I will give you that. Beautiful enough to tempt any man.

Her beauty did hold me in thrall for a time...it is true. Yet even then

I went to sleep thinking of grey eyes and woke with a

longing to see them again.", Jon said.

He walked to her and stopped only when they stood but inches apart.

His hands traced her face as if trying to commit it to memory.

"I chose wrong. Honor, duty, respect...these mean little in life when there

is no love. Because as long as it has taken me to understand- _love is the_

 _greatest duty of them all._

Try as I might I can not turn back the clock, I can not undo all that I have

done wrong, but I have answered for my wrongs. I wrongly believed that

by going South, I was doing my duty. I have suffered in vain, and if

no good truly does go unpunished...I would rather be punished for listening

to my heart."

Arya felt his hand draw behind her nape as he drew her closer until their

very breath mingled.

"The red witch was wrong about many a things, but she was right about

one... _the heart is all that matters and_ the heart wants what it wants..."

Arya knew that what was about to happen would be labeled wrong by

many. Yet as she leaned forward, she knew it wasn't wrong.

 _'Perhaps the rules were wrong'_ was the last thing she thought of as their

lips met and all else was lost.


	15. Chapter 15

I'll be posting updates for this story on archive of our own from now onwards.

Chp. 14 has been posted.

/works/12015384/chapters/27554760

Thank you guys for reading :D


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